


Family Don't End With Blood

by WonTon_Lady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel probably likes you because you actually call him Castiel, Crowley is secretly sweet, Dean could be but hes always asleep, Multi, Sam is basically your BFF, Sam is very picky about his tea, Supernatural Fluff, the boys are sick, the boys are weird, what is the secret component of the sick soup, you are such a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 14:32:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4482965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonTon_Lady/pseuds/WonTon_Lady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically fluff of you with the characters of Supernatural.<br/>(It's not technically supposed to be a romantic type of story for these, just friendship stuff, but you can think of them however you want)</p><p>I do not own any of these characters and I hope you enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In My Life

**Author's Note:**

> It's the middle of winter and it's raining like crazy at the bunker. The Winchester brothers try to do something nice for you and it doesn't exactly go as planned. At least you're here to knock some sense into them. Kind of.
> 
> And of course a visual  
> http://www.polyvore.com/thats_not_natural/set?id=169319159

“I told you both that you could have waited to get the cake, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

I was standing over the couch where Sam and Dean were sitting with their eyes closed. Their faces were pale and they were shivering even though they were wrapped in four layers of blankets. For the past few days it had been raining nonstop, so we thought it would be best to just stay in the bunker and let it pass. However, these idiots went out into the rain, somehow locked themselves out of the Impala, and stood in the rain for almost two hours until I was able to drive over with the spare key. Now there was a soggy cake in the kitchen and the boys were sick and refused to move from the couch.

“No, we couldn’t have,” Sam groaned, “we know how important this is for you (Y/N), and we didn’t have everything here for you to make it. You’re always doing things for us so we figured we should do something for a change.”

“Except,” Dean mumbled, “we can’t bake worth a damn. So we went and bought it.”

I shook my head, “You two are idiots. Now you both need to make your way up to your rooms so you can rest. I’ll bring you each some tea and soup.”

They both groaned and burrowed deeper into their cocoon of blankets. I rolled my eyes and helped Sam up from the couch first. It was awkward supporting Sam considering our whole foot height difference, but somehow we managed to make it to his room.

He slowly crawled into his bed and let out a really depressing sigh before I left to help Dean, which was no different from what happened with Sam.

 

 

I went down to the kitchen in the bunker and scavenged for ingredients to make soup for the boys. I managed to find everything I needed for a chicken and rice soup. I filled the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil while I took the chicken out of the fridge and chopped up the vegetables. By the time I got the ingredients into the soup pot, the kettle was letting out an ear splitting whistle. I carefully poured the hot water into two prepared mugs with tea bags and let them steep while I collected the sugar, lemon and honey.

While the soup was cooking, I took the boys mugs up to their rooms along with some crackers. When I got up to Sam’s room, he was laying on his side watching the _Price Is Right_ with a glazed look in his eyes.

“Sam?” I said before entering, “I brought you some tea and crackers.”

“Did you put lemon?”

“Yes, plenty of it.”

“Thank you,” he flashed me a smile then sat up in his bed so he could have his tea. “and sorry about all of this.”

“It’s really no big deal,” I said as I passed him his mug and set his bag of crackers on his nightstand, “I guess it was my fault that you were out there in the first place.”

“And we’re probably going to do it again, so don’t blame yourself.”

I smiled at him and turned to the door, “Drink your tea, the soup should be done in a few minutes.”

I made my way down the hall to Dean’s room with his tea and crackers, and was not surprised to see him sprawled across his bed face down, fast asleep.

I set his tea and crackers down on his night stand and stood there for a moment just looking at him. I grabbed the blanket that was draped over the end of his bed and covered him with it, then went back down to the kitchen to check on the soup.

As I was taking the bowls and glasses out of the cupboard, Castiel suddenly appeared in the kitchen, startling me. I dropped one of the bowls, shards of blue ceramic scattering across the concrete floor.

“For the love of all things deep fried and sugarcoated, Castiel. Do not do that to me again.”

“I apologize,” he said simply.

I sighed and pointed to the corner of the room where the broom was standing, “Can you please get the broom and dust pan and help me clean this mess up?”

He had a confused look on his face, but went to get the items I requested anyway. Together, we cleaned up the broken bits of ceramic. I grabbed a new bowl and continued what I had been doing before he arrived, ladling soup into the bows and pouring orange juice into the cups.

“Castiel, can you take this soup and glass of juice over to your sick boyfriend? Thank you.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, “Boyfriend?”

“Yes, the love of your life. Now go, I need to take this to Sam before it gets cold.”

“But, why do they need soup?”

“Because they’re sick.”

“Is it ghost sickness again?”

“No, Castiel –“

“Do we need to salt the –“

I put my hand in front of his face to stop him from continuing, “They just have a cold. Now go.”

 

 

When I finally made it to Sam’s room, my ears were buzzing from all of Castiel’s questions. Sam was sitting up in bed, his blanket pulled up to his chin, flipping through channels on his TV. He already had dark circles around his eyes, but his face wasn’t as pale as earlier. I set his soup and orange juice down on his night stand then sat down on the chair near his bed.

“ _How I Met Your Mother_ ’s final season is ridiculous,” Sam said after I sat down, “why bring this perfect woman into Ted’s life only to kill her off so he can be with Robin?”

“I have no idea,” I said, reaching for one of the left over crackers on his night stand, “I think she was perfect though, they should have kept her.”

Sam looked over to the night stand and smiled, “Thanks for the soup. What kind is it?”

“It’s a super secret sick soup that is a family recipe, if I told you what it was I would have to –“

“It looks like chicken and rice,”

Sam smirked when I rolled my eyes at him, “You could at least humor me.”

“I’d rather just eat the soup,” Sam said as he pulled the blanket off of him and swung his legs over the side of the bed to face the night stand.

 After a few spoonfuls of soup and a couple sips of juice, Sam finally asked me something.

“So, the whole cake thing,” He began, “how did that start?”

I looked down at the stained polyester chair and traced the faded gold patterns with my index finger. I’ve never told anyone about this before, but in the five years that I’ve known Sam and Dean, they’ve noticed my habit and I couldn’t avoid the truth any longer.

“(Y/N)?” Sam spoke again in a quiet voice.

“So I had a brother,” I started, not daring to look into his eyes, “and, you know, a job went bad and we lost him. So, on his birthday, I always make his favorite cake. He never ate any cake unless it was made by me.”

Sam was quiet. He knew what it was like to lose someone you love. The boys had told me about everything they had been through the years before I knew them. I could tell he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he said finally, “I am glad that you said something though. You shouldn’t have to cope with this on your own. And I’m really glad that you didn’t do anything crazy like we did.”

I smiled, “You mean stupid,”

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever.”

We heard a loud crash outside that startled the both of us. Suddenly Castiel appeared the room, his trench coat charred and his hair a mess.

“(Y/N), we have a problem,” he said.

“What is it?” I asked him.

“Dean wanted more soup, and I tried to copy what you did, but I think I may have made a grave mistake.”

We heard a loud BOOM from what I assumed was something in the kitchen. Sam and I gave each other matching looks of fear.

“Run,” is all he said to me, and I quickly jumped out of the chair and dashed towards the kitchen. It was just another day in the bunker.

 

 


	2. Kill of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and Dean go out to get some supplies for the bunker but run into some trouble along the way. So much fluff, but there is action! (And Dean swears a bit, but is that really a surprise?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Comment and let me know what you think :)
> 
> Clothes!  
> http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=171817465

It was a hot summer afternoon in Kansas, and I was sitting inside a café watching Dean as he worked on the Impala. We had driven over to Smith Center to buy food when the hood of the car began to shutter and spit smoke.

“Son of a bitch,”

Luckily, we weren’t too far from a small auto parts store, so Dean parked the car in the vacant lot and told me to wait in the diner across the street.

“I’ll fix the car and then we’ll go buy the food at that store we saw up the street,” Dean said as he took off his flannel over shirt and handed it to me, “It shouldn’t take long.”

I was very happy that I had decided to take my book with me, even after Dean had teased me about it before we left. I took a seat near the window and read while I munched on toast and took sips of the sweet tea I ordered. From where I was I could see Dean arguing with the owner of the auto parts store, most likely he was trying to get what he needed for a lower price. I rolled my eyes when I saw him flash one of his many fake badges at the man.

It was several hours later when Dean entered the diner, sweaty and covered in dirt and oil. He plopped down into the bench in front of me and took a long drink of the water that I had ordered for him.

“I could really go for a burger,” Dean said, reaching for the menu at the end of the table.

“I already ordered it,” I said as I continued to doodle on my napkin. I had finished my book about an hour ago and had nothing else to do but doodle.

“Have I ever told you that you’re an amazing person?” Dean said dramatically.

“Just go wash up, you’re disgusting.”

He smiled and winked at me before he got up from the booth and walked towards the washroom. When he got back, his burger had just arrived at the table and he dug in without a moment’s hesitation. After his third monstrous bite of burger, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and pulled it out to answer it.

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s taking so long?” Sam’s voice said from over the phone.

“The Impala broke down and Dean needed to fix it. It’s done so we should be back soon though.” I explained.

“Do not call her an ‘it’, (Y/N).” Dean said through a mouth full of food, “She’s sensitive.”

I ignored his comment and returned my attention to Sam.

“Just be careful, there’s been a lot of monster activity around there and Dean’s not exactly in the best shape right now.”

“I know, I’ll take care of little baby Dean,”

“Shut up, (Y/N),” Dean said, throwing his napkin at me.

I said goodbye to Sam and hung up the phone, then stole a french fry from Dean’s plate.

“What’ve you eaten since you’ve been in here?” Dean asked after he finished his last bite of burger.

“I had some toast and stuff.” I said, wiping my fingers on my napkin.

“You mean a glass of tea and a half slice of toast.”

I rolled my eyes and nudged his pate closer to him, “Finish your food so we can get back to the bunker,”

“You finish the fries,” he pushed his plate towards me, “and then we’ll leave.”

I pursed my lips and looked him in the eye. He frowned and raised an eyebrow at me. A staring contest like this between Dean and myself could last hours on a bad day. However, I was too tired and the fries looked way too appetizing.

“Fine,” I said, giving in, “but you’re buying me another tea.”

 

After picking up the groceries (which mainly consisted of various types of alcohol for the boys, and tea for me) we headed back to the bunker. Dean had chosen a mellower cassette tape for us to listen to on the drive back. The sun was just beginning to set and we had the windows rolled down now that the air was cooler.

“So what’s been up with you lately?” Dean finally asked.

“What do you mean?” I said as I rummaged through his cassette collection.

“You haven’t really talked to me lately.” He said, “I mean, we’re not exactly best friends, but you used to talk to me and tell me things.”

“What are you getting at, Dean?”

Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the road and turned off the ignition, then he turned to look at me.

“It’s because of the mark, isn’t it.”

It was a statement, not a question. I was taken aback by what he had said and wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t true, of course, but he believed it was.

“Dean, you know that’s not-“

“Then what, (Y/N)?” His mouth was set in a frown and his hazel eyes wide with fear for what I might say.

“You already know that Sam, Castiel and I are worried about you,” I said, “and you never want to talk to us about it when we bring it up, and I respect the fact that you don’t.”

He just looked at me and said nothing. I sighed and continued.

“You are one of the best friends that I’ve ever had, Dean. I want to help you, but I know that I can’t do anything for you if you don’t want help, so I’ve stayed away and given you space.”

“Yeah, but the space is like the size of the freaking universe.” Dean folded his arms and turned to look out the driver’s window.

“What are you talking about,” I said, frustration rising in my voice, “we live in the same bunker, your room is two halls down from mine, we eat every meal together and we watch TV together.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Dean said, releasing a frustrated sigh.

“Then what do you – oh no,”

Through the driver’s window I could see a wendigo in the distance. The sun had already set while we were talking, and lucky for us, the monster seemed like it had no idea we were here.

“Dean, turn off the headlights,” I whispered.

Dean did what I said and turned to see what was outside.

“What is a wendigo doing way out in this part of Kansas,” Dean whispered as he reached into the glove compartment for his gun.

I pulled mine out of my bag that was underneath the seat and went for the door, but before I could open it, Dean reached out and grabbed my arm.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing? We need to get supplies from the back so we can torch that thing.”

“I don’t want you out there right now –“

“Oh shut up, Dean.”

“You’re not exactly dressed for this.”

I looked down at my pink tank top, jean shorts and beat up black converse.

“I’ll survive,”

I pushed him away and got out of the car as quietly as I could. I heard Dean grumble as he followed me and together we set up a sort of fire bomb for the wendigo. Dean grabbed a few flare sticks and tossed them in a bag, then closed and locked the trunk of the Impala.

“I’m going to distract it and you’re going to torch the son of a bitch. Got it?” Dean said to me.

“Got it,” I replied.

Dean then ran off and ignited one of the flares, yelling while shooting and throwing the occasional rock at the wendigo. When he finally led the creature to the perfect spot where I could ambush it, the wendigo wound back its arm and hit Dean, sending him flying.

“Dean!” I yelled, which was a mistake. The wendigo noticed me and made its way towards me in a sprint.

I pulled my lighter out of my pocket and fumbled with it as I tried to light the fuse on the makeshift fire bomb. I could see the monster quickly making its way towards me but still couldn’t light it. Before I knew it, the wendigo reached for me and I ducked out of the way. I felt a burning pain in my left arm. The creature had left three deep gashes in my upper arm and blood was oozing fast from them. I covered it with my free hand and tried to crawl away from the howling beast, but it was no use.

It reached and clawed my leg, blood splattering unto the dirt around me. I screamed when I felt its claws slice through my flesh. I scrambled around in pain looking for the bomb but couldn’t see a thing in the darkness. I heard the wendigo howl again. I knew it was hovering over me now, ready to strike. I covered my face and waited for the inevitable.

I heard gunfire and a roar from the beast. I uncovered my eyes and saw Dean standing a few feet away from the monster that was standing over me. Blood was oozing from his forehead but other than that wound, he seemed fine. The monster charged towards him and Dean kept shooting rounds into its chest.

“(Y/N) now!” he roared as he continued to shoot at the wendigo.

I got up and scrambled around the dirt searching for the bomb and my lighter. When my hands finally found the items, I turned on the lighter and lit the fuse on the second try then threw it at the monster.

“Move!” I yelled at Dean.

He threw himself on the ground away from the now flaming wendigo. I let out a sigh of relief and fell back onto the ground. Dean got up and made his way towards me, wiping his forehead with the hem of his dark blue shirt.

“Shit,” he whispered under his breath when he saw what condition I was in.

I was becoming more aware of the burning pain in my arm and leg and couldn’t stop the blood pouring from my wounds.

“Okay, (Y/N).” Dean said as he pulled off his flannel shirt and pressed it on the wound on my leg, which was bleeding pretty badly, “I’m going to pick you up and carry you back to the car so I can patch you up. Just keep putting pressure on your arm.”

Dean lifted me up with ease and carefully led us back to the Impala. He set me down on the hood of the car and dug in the back seat for the first aid kit. I was too lightheaded to even notice the stitches Dean was sewing into my leg and arm. In a few minutes, he had sewn me up and wrapped bandages around my wounds.

“Well,” Dean said with a smile, “at least you’ll have some badass scars.”

I was too drained to say anything back but managed to give him a small smile in return. With that, he picked me up again and put me in the passenger’s seat where I fell asleep.

 

“A wendigo? Since when do they hunt around here?” I could hear Sam’s voice echo down the hall outside my room

I was lying in my bed, still dressed and wrapped in my favorite fuzzy blue blanket, my shoes were off and sat by the bed. My arm and leg were throbbing where I had been clawed by the wendigo, and I was far too tired and sore to move.

“I know it’s weird. I have no idea what’s going on, but we took care of it.” Dean said.

“Yeah, but now (Y/N)’s hurt.”

“It was an accident, but she’s alright now.”

“You’ve been too reckless, Dean. You could have gotten her killed.”

“Look, Sam,” Dean said, “we decided to take that thing down together. If I knew this would happen I wouldn’t have even bothered to stop the car.”

“But it did happen.” Sam said, “and (Y/N) isn’t the first casualty you’ve left in your wake since you got the mark.”

I covered my ears with my pillow and shut my eyes. I really didn’t want to hear the boys fighting. Ever since the Mark of Cain appeared on Dean’s arm, the two of them have done nothing but argue. Usually Castiel was here for me to talk to and drown it all out, but he was away doing who knows what.

I heard the door of my room open then felt the edge of my bed sink. I moved my pillow and opened one eye to see who it was. Dean sat there just staring at my wall, his hands clasped between his knees. His face was expressionless.

“Dean?” I said quietly.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” he said without moving or changing his expression.

“For what? What happened wasn’t your fault Dean, it’s just the job–“

“No,” Dean said, looking at me with a frown, “I made a mistake and you got hurt. Will you just let me apologize?”

“But it’s not your fault.”

His jaw clenched as he shook his head, then looked down at the floor. He still wouldn’t look at me. I scooted over in my bed and pulled him down with me using my good arm. He didn’t fight or pull away as I hugged him.

“You’re so full of yourself, Winchester.” I mumbled

Dean carefully wrapped his arms around me and said, “Shut up,”


	3. It Tastes Like Molecules to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and Castiel bake things and have a bonding moment
> 
> Sorry for the late update, hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a visual for what the reader is wearing if you need it :)
> 
> http://www.polyvore.com/lets_bake_something/set?id=172385064

“Okay Castiel, this is what we’re going to do,”

Castiel and I were standing in the kitchen of the bunker in front of the prep table I had set up for baking. The angel was wearing a red apron that I had picked out for him and I had my own blue one.

“What is the purpose of this garment?” Castiel had asked as I was tying the strings of the apron together behind him.

“It’s an apron. It keeps your clothes from getting dirty,” I replied.

“What do I need this for?”

“You and I are going to bake pies and cupcakes, Castiel.” I said as I walked over to the sink to wash my hands, “Now come over here to wash your hands so we can start.”

After we were both washed up and ready to go, I had Castiel start with a simple task.

“Okay, Castiel. This is what I want you to do. Take these eggs and crack them into this bowl,” I took an egg and cracked it open to show him how, “just make sure you don’t drop any pieces of the shell in there.”

Castiel nodded and copied what I had shown him. Once I was sure he had that under control, I measured out the rest of the ingredients in to smaller bowls and took out the large mixing bowl from under the sink.

“Okay (Y/N), I’m done.”

“Great,” I said, “now I’m going to show you how to make a pie crust.”

I poured all the ingredients into the bowl and explained each of them to him.

“Now that everything’s mixed,” I continued, “I just need you to knead the dough.”

“But what will I need it for?” He asked, confused.

“No, the other knead,” I took the dough out of the bowl and showed him.

“Oh, I see,”

Once he kneaded the dough and we separated it into three sections, I took out the rolling pin and formed them into two perfect circles for the crust, then showed Castiel how to put them in the baking pans.

“Now we’re just going to bake these for a few minutes while we work on the filing.”

“What goes inside?” Castiel asked.

“Well, you can pick that. We can put strawberry, cherry, apple, chocolate... Whatever you would like.”

Castiel scrunched his eyebrows as he thought about it.

“Well, I am aware that you prefer chocolate, and both Sam and Dean prefer apple. I choose those, knowing you all have great opinions.”

I smiled at him and nodded, “Sounds good, let’s get started.”

 

After Castiel and I made the filings and put the pies in the oven, we took a little break from baking. I took out some lemonade and a plate of cheese and crackers from out of the fridge and took them to the table for us – well, mostly me – to munch on. As far as I could tell, Castiel was enjoying himself. He always has such a serious expression, so it’s hard to tell.

“You seem to greatly enjoy these simple things,” the angel said as he picked up his glass of lemonade and examined it, “why is that?”

I shrugged then sat back into my chair.

“It reminds me of when I was little.” I began, “Well, the lemonade at least. In the middle of summer, we would have a huge picnic with all our friends and family. My cousin and I, who were the same age, would play with our younger brothers and have water balloon fights and we’d pull pranks on our dads… it brings back good memories.”

“Where is your family now? Were they hunters?” Castiel looked at me with his head tilted to one side, his blue eyes focused on me with intense curiosity.

“They’re gone, Castiel. And no, they weren’t hunters.”

After what I said registered, the look on his face changed.

“I’m sorry,”

I shrugged. “We should probably check on the pies,”

We went back into the kitchen and took the pies out of the oven, then I washed all the dishes and prepared everything for the cupcakes.

“Sam had told me about your brother,” Castiel said from the other end of the counter, “I wish I could help you.”

I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him, “Me too,”

Next we made vanilla cupcakes and I showed him how to make decorations with icing.

“This pink substance is quite tasty,” Castiel said after trying the frosting.

I laughed when I saw that his face was covered in pink smudges.

“What? What are you laughing at?”

“You have frosting all over your face, Castiel.” I grabbed a napkin form the kitchen island and started to wipe down his face.

“So everything’s finished. I think it’s time we try some of what we’ve made.” I said, taking some plates and utensils out of one of the cabinets.

“The apple pie looks appetizing,” Castiel said, reaching for a fork I had placed on the table and attempted to poke the pie.

“Don’t do that, I’ll cut you a piece,”

As soon as I served Castiel his piece, we heard the door of the bunker slam shut and two husky voices filed the air.

“I don’t know what your problem is with my music,” I heard Dean say.

“It wasn’t from the best decade for music, Dean,” Sam replied.

“You shut your mouth. I’ll have you know that – Wait, do you smell that?”

Dean ran into the kitchen and his hazel eyes lit up with joy when he saw what was on the counter.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, a crooked grin spreading over his face.

“I was showing Castiel how to make it. He made this apple pie all by himself,” I smiled and nudged Castiel with my elbow.

Sam nodded with approval, “Good job Cas. Everything looks amazing guys.”

“It esh so gawd,” Dean said, already stuffing his face with pie.

 

That night, the three of us sat on the couch in the bunker munching on cupcakes and pie as we watched old movies on TV. I sat between Sam and Castiel and explained everything that was happening to the angel. A few hours later when the TV was turned off and all the sweets disappeared, it was only Castiel and I left in the kitchen to clean up.

“(Y/N),” Cas said as I put the final dishes away in the cabinet.

“Yes Castiel?”

“I think your family would be very proud of you if they could see you now.”

I looked over to the angel and smiled.

“Thank you, Castiel.”


	4. Burning Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be a simple run - get the pie, the beer, and the Pop Tarts and go. You've done it hundreds of times since god knows when, but today just didn't go as planned. At all.
> 
> The reader runs into none other than the King of Hell himself, Crowley, who is in search of the Winchester brothers. You of course refuse to give them up so he takes you instead for insurance. Are Sam and Dean going to have to save you or are you just clever enough to find your own way out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like fluff. Hopefully you enjoy!
> 
> As always, comments are very much appreciated :)

"Should I get apple or cherry this time...?”

It was still early in the day, a few people were entering and exiting the convenience store for their quick breakfast of coffee and doughnuts before heading off to work. I, on the other hand, was not in the same rush. A shopping basket in one hand and a jelly doughnut in the other, I meandered up and down the isles checking off the items on my list. We only needed a few things, so I didn't have to risk going out to an actual supermarket to get them. 

Eventually I decided to just get both pies, dropping them in my basket next to the Pop Tarts, protein bars, trail mix, and ready-made sandwiches. I checked "pie" off the list then read through what I still needed. Fruit, bread, peanut butter and beer were the only ones left. Without thinking, I quickly gathered the last items, already knowing exactly where they were from the hundreds of times I've been here.

As I walked out of the convenience store in the direction of my truck, I placed my sunglasses back over my eyes and checked my phone. There was one message from Dean that read  _Don't forget the pie! -D_  and another from Sam telling me to be careful. I slipped my phone back into the pocket of my jeans then threw open the passenger door of my truck, setting the grocery bags down on the floor, then slammed the door shut.

"Hello, love,"

I jumped when I heard the deep, familiar accent. I quickly turned, brandishing my knife, and was face to face with none other than the King of Hell himself.

"Crowley," I growled.

"My my, I'm surprised to see you out and about without your two buffoons and feathers beside you," He smiled as he looked from the knife I was holding and back to me, "and in civilian clothing none the less."

I rolled my eyes, "What do you want."

"The Winchesters, obviously. Now, Y/N, if you would be so kind to tell me where they are, it would be much appreciated, I'm on a bit of a schedule."

I frowned and gripped the hilt of my knife tighter, "You already know that I'm not going to do that,"

He let out an exaggerated sigh then took a step closer to me. His eyes were dark, the playfulness disappearing behind a shadow of anger and frustration.

"You listen to me, chipmunk," my knife was suddenly forcibly pulled out of my hand and thrown across the pavement, "I have issues that need to be dealt with downstairs, but I can't handle those until I get what I need from the Winchesters. Unfortunately, they have completely been hidden from me and I need someone to get me to them."

I laughed, "You really think I'll tell you where they are? You must be going crazy."

Crowley gave me an evil smile and crept closer to me. I took another step back and was soon pressed against the cool metal of my truck, trapped. This is not good.

"I've decided to make a trade with the boys. Something for what they value - you - for something that I want - the amulet."

"I'm not going anywhere with you,"

"You don't have a choice dear. After all," he snapped his fingers and five men with black eyes and blank faces appeared, "there are six of us and only one of you."

I stood there in silence, trying to figure out the best way out of this situation.

"I'll take your silence as an agreement then, Y/N."

With another snap of his fingers, the parking lot around us dissolved into nothing but blackness.

 

\-----

 

"Sam. Dean."

Castiel appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, his short brown hair disheveled and his blue eyes wide in panic.

Dean looked up from his cup of coffee, an eyebrow raised as took in the angel's appearance. Sam closed the door of the fridge then walked over to his brother and sat on the stool next to him, a similarly questioning expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Cas?" Sam asked.

"It's Crowley," Castiel said, clenching his fists at his sides.

"What about him?" Dean said after taking a sip of his coffee.

Castiel sighed and rubbed his forehead, "He's taken Y/N."

Dean and Sam immediately shot out of their seats and walked over to Castiel, their faces tense and serious.

"Where did he take them?" Dean commanded.

"I'm not entirely sure,"

"Why does he want them? They haven't been involved with him in any way." Sam added.

"I don't know. All I know is that he's taken them." Castiel folded is arms and paced back and forth from one end of the kitchen to the other, "My best guess is that is has something to do with the two of you. Crowley's probably using them as bait or a bargaining chip for the amulet."

"He wont hurt them, will he?" Dean asked, his voice breaking a bit.

"I doubt it," Sam interjected, "anyway, they can handle themselves fine with out us. At least for a while."

"That's not good enough. We need to get them back." Dean tried to storm out of the kitchen but Castiel stopped him.

"That's exactly what Crowley wants, Dean."

"I don't care. We'll give him what he wants and get them back. The amulet isn't as important as them."

"We can't give up the amulet, Y/N wouldn't want that anyway."

"Cas is right, Dean." Sam confessed, "We have to think of something else, make a plan."

Dean gritted his teeth and growled, "I'm not just going to leave them with Crowley. God knows what he'll do to them."

"Y/N is very capable, Dean," Castiel reassured, "At the moment we need to figure out where they are and how we plan on getting them back."

Sam snapped his fingers to get their attention, "Guys, I have an idea."

 

_____

 

I was sitting at the end of a long wooden table, a golden plate piled with food and a glass filled to the brim with wine sitting in front of me. There were huge dishes loaded with delicious smelling foods and several jugs filled with wine at different spaces on the table. The room I was in was dark, the bricks painted black and the windows revealing nothing but darkness behind them. A fireplace stood at the other end of the room from me, a fire burning brightly in the hearth. Candles were lit around the entire room giving off an eerie glow.

"We did a bit of research on you," Crowley walked into the room with his hands behind his back and a smirk on his face, "Macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, ham, biscuits, honey glazed vegetables... Some of your past comfort foods. Your family used to make them during the holidays. Well, that is, before  _that_  night."

I clenched my jaw when he mentioned that, but said nothing else.

"Oh, come on Y/N. We only were trying to do something nice for you."

He took a set at the opposite end of the table and tucked a napkin into the collar of his shirt then began to pile his own plate with food.

"Any minute now the Winchesters should be here."

"They're not going to come," I said flatly.

"Oh?" Crowley raised an eyebrow and smiled at me.

"They know better than that. And they know I can take care of myself."

"That's ridiculous. The squirrel would never leave you behind, and Jolly Green can't stop him once he sets his little mind to something."

I rolled my eyes and pushed the gold plate away from me, "I have faith in them."

Crowley sighed and began to cut his slice of ham into pieces, the gold silverware reflecting the light from the burning fire behind him. I watched the flames flicker in the fireplace behind him.

"Where are we?" I finally asked.

"Hell, obviously."

My jaw dropped slightly when he announced this, “What?”

He made a face as if to say ‘duh’ and pointed at himself, “Hello, King of Hell here. Where else would I take you? A McDonalds?”

I grabbed my cloth napkin off the table, crumpled it up and threw it at his head where it hit him square in the face. He looked extremely offended, which I couldn’t help but love. I leaned back in my seat and folded my arms, a smirk on my face.

“Did you just – at ME?” Crowley’s eyes were wide in surprise, the corner of his left eye twitching a bit.

“What are you going to do about it?” I reached over and grabbed a biscuit from the bread basket on the table and tore a small piece off, popping it in my mouth with a smile.

“I blame the time you’ve spent with the Winchesters for your lack of manners,”

“They actually have excellent manners, you’d be surprised,”

“How did you manage to end up with those boys anyway? I’m rather curious.” Crowley watched me as he took a sip of wine from his gold chalice.

I shrugged, “We’re hunters. We met while working the same case.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at me, “There must be more to it than that, you have far too strong of a bond.”

“Nope, that’s the whole shebang.”

“I don’t believe you,”

“You don’t have to,”

We watched each other for a moment, the fire crackling behind us.

“Now you’ve peaked my interest.” Crowley shifted in his seat and leaned closer to me, “What was it that happened? Did they save you or vice versa? Did you pathetically fall in love? Perhaps they discovered your baking skills and decided to keep you?”

“Why do you care, Crowley?”

Crowley laughed and wiped a pretend tear form his eye, “Me? Care? Please. I’m simply curious is all.”

“Unfortunately for you, there is no story to tell.”

“That’s a lie.” He said, stabbing the air with his finger to prove his point, “Do I need to tell you a story first in order to get you to share?”

I shrugged, “You can, but there’s no guarantee that I’ll have anything to tell you.”

He smiled, took another sip of his wine then cleared his throat.

“You’re aware of many of the dirty details of my life, a drunken tailor from Scotland who sold his soul and later became the King of Hell,”

I nodded. The Winchesters and I had looked into Crowley’s life a few years back to find anything we could about him to use against him, so I pretty much knew everything there was to know about his history.

“What you don’t know is what went on between my first life and my demon life.”

“And why would I want to know, exactly?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, “For the Devil’s sake, child. I’m giving you priceless information that no one in the universe knows.”  

“Fine, go on.”

Crowley cleared his throat again and continued.

“After centuries of excruciating torture, humiliation and despair in the darkest pits of hell, I was saved by someone. A woman. I remember the moment clear as day. There she was, dressed in fine silk garments the color crimson wine, her hair was done up elaborately, her eyes were sparkling in the flames. I remember her reaching down and pulling me out of the fire. I knew right then that we had a sort of connection, and I could tell she felt the same way.

“For decades after that we kept meeting, in secret, for it would have been disastrous if anyone were to have found out about us. Lucifer did, however, find out about what we were up to and put an end to it. He took her away and sent her who knows where, I later found out she died, and I was forced to work under him and Lilith. I to this day continue to think about her now and again. I never knew what love was until I met her.”

Crowley sighed and looked off into the distance, a glazed look shadowing his eyes. I listened to the fire crackle for a few long seconds before commenting.

“Crowley,” I began, “that was a complete load of crap, and you know it.”

Crowley shrugged and reached for a biscuit and butter, “It was worth a try. How could you tell anyway? I thought I was rather convincing.”

“’I never knew what love was until I met her.’ Oh give me a break. And you didn’t bother to mention a name either. I will give you points for effort though.”

“You should still tell me how you came to know the Winchesters,”

“You just told me a ridiculous and false story, why should I?”

Crowley pouted and gave me puppy-dog eyes.

“Dear God, Crowley. Please don’t, that is so weird.”

“If I stop will you tell me?”

I rolled my eyes, “Fine, whatever.”

“Fantastic, I should have made popcorn.”

I ignored his comment and instead tried to figure out where to start.

“Okay. Unlike Sam and Dean, I don’t come from a family of hunters. My family was normal. My mother was a scientist and the owner of a large corporation that was started by my grandfather and was passed down to her, my father was a martial arts instructor who ran his own martial arts school, and then there were my little brother and I.

“It was summer and my family really wanted milkshakes, so they got dressed in the middle of the night to go out and get some. I didn’t want to go for whatever reason, I was probably too exhausted or just didn’t feel like being in public. The next morning I woke up and they still weren’t back. Turns out they never actually made it to the restaurant because the car was still in the driveway and so were their bodies.

“Sam and Dean showed up a few hours after I called the police. They interviewed me, told me the truth because they knew the monster would be back for me, and then the rest is history.”

Crowley was silent. I was surprised by his response to my story. He straightened his tie in what I assumed was an attempt to pull himself back to reality.

“I have greatly underestimated you, haven’t I Y/N?”

“What do you mean?”

“Any minute now,” Crowley continued, ignoring my question, “Your buffoons are going to burst through that door and demand that I give you back. And you’re going to leave with them.”

I was speechless and incredibly confused. Did my story somehow change his mind? If so, why?

“Why?” I asked hesitantly.

“I’ve suddenly come to the realization that the amulet is worthless to me now. I no longer see a point in keeping you here either, so they can simply take you back when they come.”

“I’m not sure what to say,”

“Say nothing. Ever.” Crowley gave me a stern look then picked up his fork and knife and turned his attention to his plate. He pointed his knife at the door and gave a quick look at my direction, “That would be them not.”

After he said this, Sam, Dean, and Castiel burst through the doors, each brandishing a strange weapon. Dean’s face was covered in soot, Sam’s hair was a tangled mess and Castiel’s coat was torn to shreds.

“Y/N!” Dean roared after he spotted me.

I stood up and ran over to them, an awkward smile plastered on my face.

“Took you three long enough to get here,”

“We had to figure out where you were and who took you,” Castiel said as he eyed Crowley from across the room, “we knew it wouldn’t be an easy fight when we figured out it was Crowley.”

“Actually,” Sam began, “we were expecting much more of a fight. We didn’t see a single demon on the way over here.”

Crowley looked up from his dinner and glared at the four of us.

“Now that you have your friend back, you can all leave.”

Sam, Dean and Castiel looked at Crowley then me, unsure of whether what they were hearing was the truth or not. I simply shrugged and started walking towards the door they entered though.

“You heard the King, let’s go.”

I let the three of them exit first, enjoying their confused expressions. Crowley was still sitting at the table, watching us as we left. I stood there for a moment, just looking back, curious about the sudden change in his attitude towards me.

“Feel free to stop by whenever like. I enjoyed our chat.”

I smiled and turned to follow the others down the hall. Who knows, maybe I would take him up on his offer. Maybe.


End file.
